


Checkmate

by Pent



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Chess, Dominant Keeler, Foreplay, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pent/pseuds/Pent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Keeler asserts his dominance and Encke loses a game of chess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkmate

"You seem tense today," Keeler acknowledged. Bringing a hand to his slightly parted lips, Encke plotted his next move; swift but careful, and certainly with a more defensive approach than Keeler's aggressive opposition. 

"I am," Encke confessed, eyes scanning the artificial dimensions of the playing field several times before he finally spoke, "Rook, D7." Keeler watched his face, hard with focus, glow with the blue illumination of the field as his command was executed. He kept his slanted eyes glued to Encke, watching him breathe and ignoring that it was now his turn. Keeler had already determined his move before Encke had spoken.

"Rook, D1. Did something happen with the fighters?"

After a quick analysis of Keeler's position, Encke countered his advance. "Queen, E6," he ordered, leaning back and glowering at the game. "They still don't got a fucking clue what their place is here, no matter how clear I spell it out for them. I make it real simple."

"I know you do." Keeler offered him a sympathetic smile before his eyes flickered downwards. "They know their place, I'm sure. They just want to see how far they can push you; how much they can get away with." Keeler was relieved that he did not have to physically keep his navigators from ripping each others' throats out. "Bishop, D7. Check."

Nodding thoughtfully, Encke's eyes softened. "I think you're right, baby, but their fucking brawls and disobedience gets real old real fast. Knight, D7," the fighter responded, pouncing at the hole in Keeler's defense. "I'm fed up with it. Next one to fuck with me is gonna _really_ regret it." 

The muscles in Encke's face clenched and his jaw became tight with agitation. Keeler hid his pleasure—easily, as he hated seeing Encke in distress when hearing the exhausting tasks he had to deal with on a daily basis—but also found him particularly alluring when he was angry. Looking directly into his eyes, Keeler reassured, "With you leading them, they'll stay in line," he glanced down again, eyes acute with concentration. "Queen, B8—they're probably just jostling over their new environment and the change of pace. Once they figure out that you're not going to let them get away with anything less than absolute respect, they'll obey your every command like trained puppies. Check, sweetheart."

"Jostling," Encke snorted, crossing his arms across his chest. He knew that the kinds fights he was breaking up were not triggered from the fighters' weary, disjointed feelings with their new surroundings. They were fighters—born and bred like animals, instinctively ready to prove their dominance over anything that moved. Cramming them together in the same small space begged for chaos and violence.

Half-teasing and half-envious, Encke took his sly focus off the game and onto Keeler. "I bet your navis were sucking up to you from the second they set foot on this ship," he said. Encke observed the field again, realizing that he had fallen directly into Keeler's trap. "Dammit, Keeler—knight, B8."

"Rook, D8," Keeler proclaimed, giving Encke a lazy, sweet smile from his winning pride; but mostly from Encke's correct assumption about his navigators, save from the occasional snippy argument and their constant mind games that occurred behind his back. "Checkmate."

* * *

Keeler let Encke run his fingers through his hair, knowing that it never failed to bring him intoxicating satisfaction. To feel Encke loosen up against his skin turned Keeler on more than the fighter knew. Encke laid down on his back while Keeler ran his soft hands over his chest and neck before bringing them down to stroke his thighs. Encke gently undid the braid tickling his chest, letting Keeler's hair spread over him, wild and pretty.

Keeler liked to draw out their foreplay, to tease and to peck at Encke's rough skin long enough to make him anxious, but not long enough for him to attempt to take control. Their sweetness violently contrasted the savage release that usually followed, but would not budge in progression until neither men could stand the slow pace anymore. Encke grunted and closed his eyes as Keeler began to trail kisses up his neck with his hand caressing the arc of his hip.

"I'm not made of glass," Keeler murmured into his ear. Encke felt Keeler's lips form into a smile as he kissed him under his ear, lightly nipping at him from the nape of his neck up to his earlobe. Encke shivered, and took his words as an invitation to run his hands down his back with more force, to feel every crevice in his flawless, burning skin. "You can do better than that, love."

"...I kno—aah."

He was silenced by Keeler, who had shot his hand down to grope Encke's cock with the suddenness and ferocity of a viper. Encke submitted to Keeler, knowing that he was just getting started. Although their routine rarely changed, Keeler always managed to keep things exciting.

All the power in the room was Keeler's, and he knew it. His weight did not even come close to pinning Encke down, but the fighter went along with it, unable to think of a situation he'd rather be in. As Keeler grew more aggressive, rhythmically massaging Encke's cock while crashing into his lips, Encke's hand that wasn't sliding down the small of his navigator's slender back was padding around the rumpled sheets, feeling for their lube. The moment Encke's temples started to chill; when he began to moan with pleasure, Keeler cut all actions and snapped away from him, sitting up and panting. Encke came to a crashing halt, never failing to be dazed at his love's favorite game. He fumbled with the lube when trying to hand it to Keeler, nearly dropping it on his stomach. Keeler merely stared at him, chest moving heavily with closed lips that curved into a smile. He laughed.

"What?" Encke breathed, perplexed. He propped himself onto his shoulders, only to be pushed down flat again.

"You're so handsome," Keeler responded giddily, dismounting him. "For a fighter."

"Devious," Encke huffed, grinning. After catching his breath, Encke narrowed his dark eyes, retorting, "You know I'm way better looking than all those fuckers combined, baby." 

Keeler's half-lidded blue eyes pushed all conversation aside as he cheerfully lubed his fingers and cock, nudging Encke to turn over when he froze to watch. He complied, and Keeler soundlessly entered him, swirling two fingers around gently to prepare the fighter. Keeler had always been quiet in bed; even when he was not on top. The only noises he made aside from quiet lapses of pleasure were fragments of small-talk when things began to bore him, or demands for Encke to fuck him harder and to stop treating him like an artifact. 

Leaving only a tiny space between the time he stopped fingering Encke to when he entered him caused the fighter to hiss. Keeler knew the exact pace that made Encke hit a low note in between a grumble and a gasp that chilled Keeler to the point of nearly climaxing every time they made love. Hearing Encke's guttural moan caused his cheeks to redden as he distantly wondered how he could possibly stay interested when fucking anyone other than Encke; anyone who didn't make that compelling noise. Keeler stifled a satisfied buzz as he felt a wave of heat creep through him. 

Before Encke could request for Keeler to move at a pace faster than a tickling breeze, Keeler pushed himself far inside Encke while kissing his toned back, listening to him struggle to remain quiet when he began to thrust more viciously. 

"Ah _fuck_ —Keeler—oh," Encke grunted. Keeler knew that Encke was only begging for more and became more aggressive, ruthlessly grinding into him. It was not long before neither of them could hold out any longer, and Encke was surprised at how gentle Keeler had been on him that night. Encke felt Keeler's warmth spread within him as he moaned. Keeler slowed down, and did not have to ask if Encke was close yet, feeling his back arch and throat well up in choked delight. 

When they were finished, Keeler kissed Encke on the cheek in between hot breaths. "Early shift tomorrow," he noted sourly. " _Please_ don't hurt anyone?"

"I do what I have to," Encke answered as Keeler situated himself and curled into his chest. He pressed his face into Keeler's hair and kissed his head, causing the navigator to chortle softly. "Maybe you could teach 'em a few things, baby."


End file.
